The Other Orange Slice
by Phantasm1313
Summary: Annabel's betrayal pushes Allan to make a rash decision, one that changes his life more than he thought possible. After all, he wasn't supposed to meet that cynical "butler"...
1. Intro: Halved Heart

**Halved Heart**

* * *

The faucet leaked, a steady plop every few seconds. He knew he'd get around to it, eventually, but some things you couldn't fix. Like a marriage. He didn't know how to fix what was already broken beyond repair, though.

Even through the blinds, the flash from the pesky reporter's cameras shone brightly like fireflies. The somber house illuminated every few moments, at about the same speed that the faucet leaked.

Allan whispered, hoarsely, "Stop..." but it was lost in the clamors from outside. He couldn't face them. The moment he stepped outside, they'd have his picture. And Allan's red, weepy face would end up on the cover of some tabloid magazine. Annabel certainly would see it, and she'd laugh... at him, his misfortune... but mostly at him. She'd liked to laugh at him, lately.

He'd preferred to cry, lately.

Because the moment she stepped out of his life-it was more like went out with a bang-everything he'd known had disintegrated. He had no wife. He had no son. Annabel had taken their son, too. But what did he care? Oliver wasn't even his, if her last words to Allan were anything to go by.

_ "Oh, and before I go...," She turned her head towards him and smiled pointedly, "Oliver isn't your son." Pushing her blond curls behind her ear, Annabel pulled tiny tot Oliver outside and slammed the door. She did not look back, not even once._

Anything she didn't like was left in their (now his) house. That included Allan himself, along with everything that was more than a month old. So he'd sifted through the mountains of clothes and cosmetics, each garment new and foreign to him. With all the money she'd earned herself, she bought whatever she wanted without him keeping tabs.

But she couldn't buy a new husband, not until she'd gotten rid of the old one. And now it had happened, model "Sweet Ann" ditched and divorced her John Doe husband in favor of acclaimed actor Leon. Oliver had always looked more like him than Allan, in hindsight.

There was an ache in Allan's body that wouldn't go away. He was tired of moping, tired of sobbing, and tired of being tired. He had to get away. Somewhere, _anywhere_, without posters of her smooching her boyfriend and holding their child's hand...

Allan suddenly lifted his head up from the dining room table. The reporters still clamored outside, and the sink still leaked, but there was hope.

_He knew where he could go._

* * *

** Next Chapter: A Loaded, Bipolar Cousin**

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+ Thank you for reading this far.

+ I hope you enjoyed enough to continue supporting the story.

+ The next chapters will be longer, of course.


	2. 1: Terrorizing Tonio

The door swung open and Tonio stared down at Allan from the entrance. He opened his mouth, shrieked, "Cousin?!" then proceeded to turn a queasy green color. He let him in without another word. Allan would have laughed- did what happened so long ago affect him THAT badly? - But he dared not. Submissive as he was, his cousin was still filthy rich, and could probably make his robot butlers shoot tranquilizer darts from their eyes.

Once the door was shut behind them and he'd waved his servants away, Tonio stood, shocked, in front of Allan. "What did I do this time?" he asked, fingers twitching in expectation. He trembled nervously, eyes wide as a deer in the headlights of a car.

"C'mon, kid, calm down!" Allan tried to jokingly smile at him. It must have come out as more of a grimace, given Allan's recent heartbreak and depressive mood. Then, giving a heavy sigh, he added, "I'm not here to beat you up."

Tonio immediately relaxed, sliding into his preferred seat on a leather couch and crossing his legs. He motioned for dear cousin Allan to do the same, and he awkwardly followed suit. Tonio's mood shifts were jarring…

With his lips curled up into a charming smile, Tonio called for a butler to bring some tea for them. Allan wrinkled his nose and shook his head. He was more of a smoothie kind of guy.

His cousin gracefully extended his pinkie once he'd taken his own cup. Tonio was such a faker! Despite his Italian upbringing, he'd much rather live the life of a British gentleman, while Allan embraced his Texan roots.

"How's the Opera?" Allan asked, with a playful lilt to his voice.

Tonio's smile softened. "Yes, Prima's fine, if that's what you were so smoothly asking about." After a pause, he asked, "So, why did you come see me? It isn't like you to just_ show up_."

"You musta heard. It's on magazine covers and everything." Allan's throat felt arid. To have to confess to Tonio that his wife had left him was unbearable. But, if he wanted to go through with his plan, this must be done.

Allan braced himself, taking a deep breath and fixing his eyes rigidly on Tonio. He said, slowly, pained, "Annabel left me." And then, voice breaking, he added, "Ollie isn't even my kid."

Tonio silently placed his cup down on a table and glided over to him. With trembling hands, he cupped Allan's cheeks and forced his face upwards. "Look at me," he commanded, green eyes sincere. "We have never been the best of friends, but family trumps anything, I think! Annabel…" he squeezed Allan's face a little too hard, "She can't do this! No way!"

Once he'd let go, he cocked his hips to the side and smirked. "Want me to turn the media against her? Because I can do that." He suddenly looked pleased. "Money can do anything."

Allan shook his head somberly. "Tonio, _stop_. I-, I don't want to hurt her." No matter what, the woman she'd become didn't have a place in his memories of his wife. He couldn't bring himself to think of her as evil.

"You just wanted to bring by the news, then?" Tonio raised an eyebrow. "I think I'm one of the only people to see what you are capable of, and I can't accept this. Allan, _you fought me and won. I was five years older than you, and twice as strong._ Don't pretend that you're weak. I know firsthand the truth."

"You've got things all wrong!" exclaimed the Texan, frustrated. "I'm not secretly violent or anything. Just… I can defend myself when the time is right. And, seriously, Tonio, you were a real BULLY back then."

"I can bully her just as I did to you then, albeit in a less conspicuous manner." The dark-haired man grinned predatorily. He must have temporarily forgotten his fear of Allan, the one that kept him so compliant.

"No, Cuz. Look, what I want is to get away. There isn't a single day that I don't see her face. Annabel is _everywhere._ She gets more famous by the week, especially now that Hollywood has proclaimed her and _that man_ "Cutest New Couple".

Allan's face contorted, visibly hurt, and he gave a long, drawn-out sigh. "So I need you to lend me a hand. Can you send me somewhere outside the U.S?"

"I take it she's not an international sensation yet, is she?" Tonio pursed his lips and sat down, taking a sip of his tea as he leaned against the couch. "Allan, I'm made of money, but I don't feel like spending it on you, honestly."

Allan furrowed his brown brows, and replied, "Don't make me beat you down again. 'Cuz I will." He was attempting a joke, but Tonio remembered broken ribs and endless days at the hospital…

Once fear had settled back into his eyes, his cousin seemed to change his mind. "Oh! Well, I bought Prima some tickets to Japan so she can perform… What's one more ticket! Ha-ha!"

Allan sheepishly gave his cousin a parting hug. He hadn't meant to terrorize him yet again, but it had worked out in his favor, this time. "Thanks, Antonio." Tonio chuckled and bade him farewell.

* * *

The airport was crowded, inevitably, because it was that time of the year. July 18th, when kids were out of school and families went on vacations. He'd felt depressed thinking about it. Annabel, Oliver, and Allan could all have gone on a vacation together.

Funny how he'd ended up on a vacation to run away from them. He waited around for Prima, his future cousin-in law, on one of the various seats. Everyone who saw him would have assumed that he was moping… and rightly so.

Or at least he was until Prima showed up. She was a woman of homely appearance, with poise and grace, but her vocal power was _astounding._ With a lopsided smile, she beckoned Allan forward and they boarded the airplane.

Allan had no idea how big of a mess he'd be getting into.

* * *

Next Chapter: There are handsome Butlers

+ Thank you for reading!

+ For more info on how their childhoods went down, check out "Little Allan's Big Polka" on Youtube.


	3. 2: Bored Butler

"Hiyama-san, the Mistress at Table Two requires your attention," Gakupo said, smooth as silk, making sure to toss in a wink her way. The other man smiled politely at her when he neared her table, the one with a sweet-smelling vase of lilies on it.

"Is there any way I can help you, Miss?" His glasses almost rolled off his nose, so he adjusted them with an apologetic smile. It was hard to stay in character, especially when your glasses seemed to be against you.

The woman held up her glass, eyes gleaming at the sight of the handsome man. "Refill, please!"

"As you wish," he indulged her and whisked away to the kitchen to prepare more. He brewed the coffee beans to perfection and returned to her with a full pitcher. Extra careful, he poured it into her expertly crafted tea cup. "Is there anything else I can do for you?"

She shook her head wordlessly, too enthralled with the butler in front of her to speak. Kiyoteru parted with a deliciously sweet smile…

…Until he reached the kitchen. Collapsing like a heavy sack against a counter, he gave a loud, overly dramatic sigh. "Hiyama-san? What're you doing?" A thin, tree-like man looked up from the dishes he'd been cleaning. He wiped his wet hands loosely on his apron and tilted his head questioningly.

"Nothing of importance, once again," the guy in a Butler get-up groaned.

"Oh, don't be like that! Thankfulness is the key to a happy lifetime!" Roro left the sudsy sink and gave Kiyoteru a comforting back pat, unaware that he was wetting his costume. "You have a job, don't you? Even though it doesn't pay well, it's enough to stay afloat, isn't it?" And the dishwasher continued on alternating between asking questions and babbling for a while.

Before Kiyoteru could pick up his head to answer, Gakupo poked his head though the door, his dyed purple hair swinging into view. "Hiyama-san, what are you doing, pray tell?! I can't entertain these ladies all by myself!"

"Coming, coming, Kamui-san…" he replied, straightening up his back with an audible POP. But honestly, he didn't WANT to go. They pay was meager and the job embarrassing.

It was so _dreary._

* * *

It was obvious to Prima that it hadn't been good for Allan; all this time to think during the plane ride. Poor man was a pale shadow of what he'd been before. He must have reopened his emotional wounds, again, because his appetite had left him completely. Prima managed to coax him into drinking some water, at least.

She pitied and admired him. While it was sad that he'd ended up running away from Annabel's presence, he had the drive to get up and TRY to go on with his life. Resolving to be there for him, she gave him her cell phone number. Allan was free to call when he wanted…just not during performances or practices.

* * *

The look on Allan's face put off the rest of the tourists. Prima had set him up with a tour group, one that specialized with small groups of people and showing them local areas of interest. That wasn't why he'd been scowling the whole time, though. Since starting the tour, only one thought had been on his mind: Peeing.

But everyone else was so busy asking questions and hogging the guide's time that he _couldn't _ask. Not without seeming rude, and that wasn't something he wanted. Allan probably looked rude, anyways. He _was_ kind of glad that the tour was ending… only because then the tourists would be lead to their hotels, where he could pee.

Unable to contain himself any longer, Allan ducked into one of the bathrooms at the shop they were visiting. Meanwhile, the tour group looked on in fascination as the guide explained the history of a popular vocal program. The group left the store… leaving the American behind.

Upon finding out the group forgot about him, he dashed out in hopes of catching up. Allan drowned in the crowd of Japanese citizens, desperately looking for his guide. There was no way he could find him like this. He shouldered his luggage bag and slunk away to find an English speaker. There had to be _someone_ who could direct him to his hotel…

And then it hit him! He pulled out his phone to call Prima, who knew what hotel came with the tour package. She'd been the one to set it all up, anyways. But it went directly to voicemail, and he gave a heavy sigh. Prima didn't say **when** she'd be at practice…

* * *

It was almost closing time. Gakupo ran about from frilly table to frilly table, insinuating to the patrons that it was about time they left. With his beguiling smile, it was hard to imagine he'd been practically kicking them out. Meanwhile, Kiyoteru took out a wet cloth and began wiping down the vacant tables.

Roro began humming loudly from the kitchen, much to the delight of the customers. They exited the coffee shop humming along with him. The optimist came out into the café, opening his mouth to sing the finale, when he froze.

"Everyone, look! There's some guy outside!" he pointed out, surprised that a male customer would show up (and so close to closing time, too).

Gakupo, paranoid as always, fell out of his persona and whispered, "What if he's a robber?!"

"He doesn't look Japanese, does he? Oh, he's probably a foreigner… but could he be a robber, too? Maybe… a foreign robber?" Roro ducked behind the doorway to the kitchen just in case.

The purple-haired man switched on his work personality and flicked his ponytail behind his shoulder. The foreigner hit the knocker against the door, twice, politely. Gakupo took long strides to the door, and he flung it open… then ran to the kitchen with Roro, leaving Kiyoteru alone with the stranger.

"Uh, hi? D'you speak English?"

Kiyoteru had no idea why, but at that moment, his throat closed up. A spark shot up his spine, and he leaned against the velvety curtains of the café.

He found himself unable to speak.

* * *

**Next Chapter: There's a few yen missing**

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+ Thank you to all of my readers and reviewers!

+ Please point out any way I can improve, if you feel up to it.

+ I also just realized that this is my first story with multiple chapters. Heaven help me, haha!


	4. 3: Meeting Mayhem

Allan pulled in his luggage bag, its wheels jolting as they ran over a slight step. My God, he thought, internally embarrassed. He was going to end up looking like an idiot tourist! ...Which was exactly what he felt he was, at the moment. "So... no English?"

Kiyoteru swallowed thickly, still unable to reply and frustrated for not knowing why. He pushed a few brown bangs away from his face and stared at the foreigner. His face seemed more suited for welcoming smiles than the lopsided frown he wore, noticed Kiyoteru.

The American, thinking that silence meant incomprehension, tried "Plan B". Out of his jacket pocket he pulled an English to Japanese Dictionary, purchased for this sort of occasion. He sat himself down at a table that was two sizes too small for his muscular frame. On the table's top sat an ivory vase with a thin pink bow on its side.

Allan had almost knocked down the brightly colored purple flowers inside the vase...

With furrowed brows, he clumsily read, "Hoteru wa doko ni aru ka shitte imasu ka?"

After an awkward clearing of the throat, the "Butler" said, in accented English, "Yes, I speak English. But I can't tell you where it is if I don't know which one you speak of." Kiyoteru had forced himself to speak, though the whole situation felt surreal and odd.

There was stiffness in the atmosphere, one that wrapped itself tightly around the entire cafe. His lungs felt horribly constricted. Even Gakupo and Roro were quiet as death. They watched the scene that played out before them with wide, anxious eyes.

'What if I'm just imagining this tension?' The thought caught Kiyoteru off guard. If he was, then _man_ was his brain's imagination overactive.

"Oh," the man said, while giving a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Right, right. That makes sense." And then he gave a funny little snort, adding, "Well, DUH. You can't tell me where my hotel is without its name... sorry about that." Allan added, "D'ya have water, by any chance?"

Roro, who'd been mesmerized by the suffocating aura between the two men, gave a violent flinch. He scrambled towards the kitchen to bring him some tap water, dropping two ice-cubes for good measure. The glass was smoothly passed onto Kiyoteru.

When the cool glass pressed against his palm, the world gave a painful groan and clicked back into place. The man was suddenly just another customer, another face he'd forget as soon as it left. But his work persona would not switch on, and Kiyoteru stood in front of the foreigner, feeling absolutely vulnerable.

He placed the glass of water onto the table. "The cost comes to 105 yen," he said, voice hardly more than an awkward whisper.

The man rummaged around the inside of his luggage bag until he pulled out 100 yen. As he gave a sheepish smile, he explained, "I'm 5 yen short... this is literally all Prima gave me for spending, as of now."

"I... no, it's... It is alright. I will take care of the rest. It's not much, I will pay it for you." Kiyoteru's heart was hammering in his throat, and _why doesn't he just __**leave**__ already?_

"What? Really?" Allan's eyes gained a happy sparkle to them, and he took a swig from the cup. He picked up all his things with one grand, sweeping movement and made a beeline towards the exit. Before he left, he craned his neck back towards Kiyoteru and assured him, "Wait right here, I'll be back!"

The door almost hit him on the behind as he left. The Japanese man yelled back, "But we're closing!" Allan hadn't heard.

And that was how Kiyoteru ended up sitting on a bench in front of the cafe, curled into himself and trying to keep warm. The sky was beginning to darken, and night surely wasn't too far off...

"What was I thinking?" he moaned, and buried his face in his hands.

* * *

Next chapter: There's the return of a strange American

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+ Short chapter for pacing reasons! It was a perfect place to end it, I think.

+ Also, I apologize for the google-translated Japanese... and for the late(ish) update...

+ And hope that you stick around for the next chapter!

+ Enjoy your day :)


	5. 4: Yuck, Yen

The odd man hadn't returned yet, and Kiyoteru's mind began to meander.

He had never been one to freeze up like that in social situations. At least, not when he was in his work persona. With his tender smile and demure gaze, he'd held conversations easily. But the moment that man had walked in… Kiyoteru's entire body had stiffened up, not unlike a corpse experiencing rigor mortis.

A voice in his mind, one with the same lilt as his mother's, said, "When you find the woman for you, you'll know. The red string will be obvious about it." The words were too familiar. Not pleased with this memory, he narrowed his eyes at the general area in front of him. How in the world would he be connected by a red string of fate with** that** guy? A young woman stared at him for an instant as he clicked his tongue, "Tch!" She carefully avoided his gaze as she walked by the bench.

Kiyoteru gave a heavy sigh, and then turned his face up to stare at the heavens. If not for the light pollution, he probably could have enjoyed the breath-taking sight of the stars smattered across the dark night sky. How sad.

'"What if…," he crossed one leg over the other and leaned back, thinking, "What if there is a _platonic_ red string of fate?" The thought was so bizarre that he threw his head back to laugh, but hit the bench with a THUNK.

After the pain faded, he dismissed the idea. It was even crazier than the idea of a fated red string!

But, if he was being totally honest with himself, there was another reason he felt unable to just leave and forget about the foreigner…

'I don't think anyone else'd do this,' thought Allan as he picked up yet another bottle's cap. He dropped it into a trash can, and then bent down to try again. No one ever told him it would be hard to find money on the ground. Back at home it had been easy! A penny here, a nickel there…

And all he needed to pay back that guy was a Japanese nickel. 'Cuz Allan had gotten to thinking, and it didn't seem right to him. That man had paid for his drink, essentially, and he was going to make things even.

A strange, strangled cheer escaped his lips. Despite the darkness of the night, he'd groped around the ground and managed to find a coin! Whether or not it was the right coin could be figured out later- the guy would think he'd stood him up! …If he was waiting up at all. Allan desperately hoped he was still there, because starting a vacation in Japan with a favor to repay didn't sound like fun.

When he returned to the Café, with all of the street lights casting shadows on it, he didn't see him. He gave a grunt of frustration and threw down the money. Blasted _coin_, blasted _Japan_, and **blasted** me, too, he thought. Tonio had been right, mostly. Allan's anger was a force to be reckoned with, if and when it reared its head. And no wonder he was aggravated. Spending all that time trying to do the right thing, and in the end, the guy wasn't even here.

Except he was, and Allan found that out when Kiyoteru peeked out from behind the Café's display, the one with a sticker-covered menu. "Who is it?" he asked in English, squinting. He hoped it was the American, and not the man who looked like he was from the Yakuza. Kiyoteru had run for cover as soon as he'd seen him coming.

"It's Allan, the guy you're waiting for," he replied quickly, picking up the coin again and offering Kiyoteru a toothy smile. The other man gave a relieved sigh and stepped into the artificial yellow light.

"W-what did you want with me?" His arms were hugging himself, and his brown-eyed gaze fixed on Allan's face and did not waver.

With his palms facing Kiyoteru in a submissive gesture, he leaned forward and gently placed the coin in his hand. "I didn't mean to scare you. I…I can tell. You don't wanna take your eyes offa me, 'cuz you don't trust me as far as you can throw me. That's fine. I've been told that my size can be… intimidating. I just wanted to pay you back."

All the tension dripped off his body at Allan's sheepish but sweet smile. "Thank you," he said, and taking a closer look at the coin, exclaimed, "But this is more than you owed me!"

"What! Really?" He scurried over to his side and furrowed his brows, examining the coin even though he couldn't make heads or tails of it. Then, thanks to the street lamp, he caught sight of the small "10" on the yen. "Seriously? Ugh. No matter what I do, nothin' ever seems to go right!"

"Well, you fulfilled your duty to your conscience, I suppose, even if it was more than you needed to repay." Despite his suppressed smile, his eyes lit up with admiration. "I didn't think people still HAD a conscience that sensitive." After a short pause and a look at his watch, he backtracked, "It's very late. Thank you for your trouble, but I'll be going home now."

Allan's stomach lurched as he realized he had nowhere to go for the night. Prima was probably sleeping, no, scratch that. Prima was definitely asleep. That woman valued a good night's rest above all else. "Oh," the American forced a grin. "That's cool. Uh, see you later. Maybe."

Noticing the tight, thin smile Allan had flashed him; Kiyoteru turned to look at him directly and tilted his head until it almost met his shoulder. "Are you alright?" Then, he remembered how Allan had been asking around for his hotel, and Kiyoteru gasped. "You don't have anywhere to stay tonight, do you?"

"No, I don't."

With the 10-yen coin clutched in his hand, Kiyoteru replied, serenely, "Looks like I have a 5-yen favor to repay."

* * *

Next Chapter: There's a sleepover

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+ Thanks for sticking around despite the wait! Life is horrible, sometimes. Doesn't give you time to sit down and write.

+ I hope all my readers are doing well.

+ Stay safe!


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